


The Juxtaposition of Two Souls

by orphan_account



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Shizaya - Freeform, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 06:19:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2418176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the midst of all this darkness, there had been Shizuo, raging and screeching and (hurting too) and achingly alive. Always brimming with himself, taking too much space. Hurting Izaya to look at him. Too bright to look away from.</p><p>The information  broker and the strongest man in Ikebukuro struggle to come to terms with one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Juxtaposition of Two Souls

**Izaya**  
It was raining when Izaya had first met Shizuo- something he doesn't remember. Of course he doesn't. The oaf probably wouldn't have even noticed him until their first day at Raira. He had made sure he'd been _noticed_ then, of course.  
At any rate, it had been raining, and he had been swimming in his own thoughts- absentmindedly weaving his knife between his fingers and looking the way any shadowy youth ought to look.  
He had heard- no, sensed- chaos in the north district, and was naturally drawn to the sound.  
And then, between the quiet splashes of his feet and the occasional all-enclosing roar of wind, he had heard a bellow of nothing but the purest rage.  
He had seen _him_  , like a beacon in the darkness. Someone his own age, dissolving men like they were nothing but wisps of smoke.  
Something shifted. The world instantly seemed out of focus, blurred at the edges, too bright, and all Izaya could think at that point was-  
 _Ah._  

xxx

 **Shizuo**  
How old were they both now, anyway? It had occured to Shizuo that soon they would have spent more years trying to kill each other than they had, well, not.  
Izaya had probably realised this a long time ago. _Jackass._  
Once, Shizuo had told him to never return to Ikebukuro.And then- it was as if Izaya actually had taken him seriously. He didn't see him for three years, the longest period by far. The oddity of it had tugged at him, demanding not to be ignored.  
When Izaya had returned, a denizen of gleaming eyes and malice and a smile sharper than his wit- him with his almost-smirk and " _Did you miss me, Shizu-chan?_ "s.  
He had only found himself thinking _Hello again_.  Izaya had proceeded to sneer, and he had, well, proceeded to attempt homicide. The 3 year gap lay unmentioned and unexplained as the dance between them resumed.

xxx

 **Izaya**  
He's an information broker, sure, but at times he almost wishes he didn't know. Quite so much about Shizuo Heiwajima. Because they are supposed to be Grand Rivals, the foils to each others' happiness. But Izaya doesn't really-well, he does- but not like that- but-  
He stuggles over whether he truly hates Shizuo. At times, it almost feels like he never truly did.  
But damn, he _hates_ him.

Raira Academy prides itself on its production of flawless young men and women. It focuses on nurturing the Pride of Japan. Its halls don't remember mere scraps, wild scraps like them, though it's doubtful either of them actually mind.

Izaya doesn't remember much of his high school days, to be frank- most are vague snapshots of running, of fighting for survival in alleys. Of Shizuo and grey sunlight. Occasionally, the recollection of a pale black haired youth hiding on rooftops and below bridges, hiding in a city that cloaked him with open arms so no one could see him- occasionally, a recollection of a pale black haired youth being eaten alive by his own loneliness crosses his mind.  
But if the recollection resurfaces, it is rare and he does not think of it often.

In the midst of all this darkness, there had been Shizuo, raging and screeching and (hurting too) and screaming-and- and achingly _alive_. Always brimming with himself, taking too much space. Hurting Izaya to look at him. Too bright to look away from.

xxx

 **Shizuo**  
In the swirl of noise and motion that is Ikebukuro, one hears the all too familiar sound of bricks tearing, car horns wailing, and faint " _IZAAAYYAAAA KUUUUUUNNS"_ roared in the distance.  
 _They're at it again_ , people shake their heads. _God, they should get a room already,_ some snicker.  
Izaya stands atop a bridge railing, metres from him. Both wear bruises, and hold expressions in their eyes that only serve to egg the other on. Shizuo is carrying a traffic sign, one seconds away from being flung at that damn flea. Izaya smirks and mocks him, the words themselves lost, a scene that has played between them a thousand, two thousand times unfolding.  
Except this time, Izaya trips over his own feet and falls off the railing.

Shizuo wonders at this. Izaya doesn't goof up, he's not human in that sense. He doesn't make mistakes, embarass himself, or ever do anything not perfectly, meticulously planned by him before.

Except _that_ just happened.

Shizuo jumps off too, landing on his feet easily. Beside him, Izaya is sprawled on the ground. He looks absolutely fucking ridiculous. Groaning slightly, though there doesn't seem to be much blood.  
The comedy of this suddenly strikes him- two grown men who hate each other, and do not know what it is to experience life without each other. Trying to cause each other misery for reasons long forgotten, passed away like dust.

It's too much. He laughs- not malicious, not affectionate. Just a laugh.A quiet one rising from somewhere deep inside. His memories of Izaya are faded things with Izaya always right in the center, crystal clear and stinging and always, always in motion. Leaving blurs in his wake. Part of him wonders what he himself is like in the other's memories.

xxx

 **Izaya**  
He's regained some semblance of awareness already, and is now painstakingly forcing himself to a sitting position. His mouth is bloody. Gingerly he feels it. and winces. He can't fucking believe himself.

Shizuo stands nearby, cigarette in mouth- _those things will kill you someday, Shizu-chan_ \- wearing an unreadable expression. They pretend not to notice each other just yet. The sky bleeds orange.

It's dreamlike and foul and he feels uncomfortable and angry. Mostly at himself. He considers getting up, ambling off with some casual rude remark.

But his legs refuse to work. _Is this for real?_ Moving them is a visible struggle. God, how the tables have suddenly turned, him the mortifying mess for once.

"Heh. You're getting old," he hears the oaf muse. His voice is too...indifferent. He does his best to respond, "Shut up-"

Shizuo is extending a hand.  
"Take it, idiot."  
For some reason, Izaya's eyes are on his mouth. Even after the words are said.  
The stretched hand wavers uncertainly between them. He looks away, bitterly, and accepts it.

xxx

 **Shizuo**  
Of course, they only really stop fighting a year later, when they kiss- for the first time, each other for the first time.

Izaya's eyes are shrouded lights in the darkness. His fingers are cool to the touch. They lightly grip his forehead, pushing back his hair. Pushing him against the brick walls of the dimmed alley. Their lips are swollen, bruised; they had furiously bitten at first. Something pained, something selfish had passed between them both. A small battle to make sense of the ever-shifting, dizzying world around them, perhaps.

The kiss had softened, eventually- from a typhoon to a barely restrained, murmuring ocean.  
Izaya dizzies him. Makes him feel lightheaded. All he can do is hold on to this..to this jackass, to this jutting rock in a stormy ocean- all he can do is hold _him,_ and hope he won't be stabbed for it.

Call it irrationality or stupidity (he's well aware both suit someone like him),but somehow, he doesn't think that will happen.

xxx

 **Izaya**  
Evn now, in the vibrating silence of the night- even now, Shizuo is not Shizuo but an amalgamation of beams. Several strands of flickering lights. Izaya senses warmth in him- fire, woodsmoke, sweat. Rage, a dormant monster always within him. And then more warmth- a capacity for love too overwhelming for him to comprehend.

What they are indulging in feels like a stolen letter. A promise. A beginning. It feels like the pain of a mask being torn out. Like his aloneness fading slowly to nothing, until all that is left in its place is light, blinding light.

Whatever small trace of fear he holds at this is ignored, and he kisses Shizuo Heiwajima harder.

xxx

Two feral alley cats weave in and out of each other's lifetimes, bound by fate. Bound by the sheer clash of each other's will. Trying to tame each other- clawing, scratching, _hurting_   each other and themselves as they fail. Two who claim to _hate_. Who sleep nestled together, bruised and battered, when it storms outside.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I am aware all this, um, _thinking_ is a bit ooc for characters like these, hehe... think of this as an indulgence fic! anyway, please leave comments and tell me if it was fine!


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